A Little Rain Never Hurt Anyone
by Darkfangz13
Summary: For once, Sherlock wasn't called in on a case. For once, it was raining and Mycroft wasn't there with his umbrella. But - for once - Lestrade didn't mind being drenched in the storm. A/N: A little bit about the Yarders when Sherlock isn't around.


A Little Rain Never Hurt Anyone

"Well! I don't envy you, Lestrade." was Anderson's first remark when Lestrade met him outside the crime scene tape.

Lestrade just sighed, offering out his hand for the thundering rain's onslaught. "Yeah, well, it was supposed to be sunny today. Bloody weather." They hurried into the relative shelter of a tarpulin stretched over to protect the crime scene. "It was so warm and bright when we left the Yard that I didn't even think to bring my coat." Lestrade griped along the way.

"Well, it happens sometimes." Anderson shrugged his shoulders and shook water off his own thick coat before accepting the protective suit handed to him by Donovan.

"No Freak this time, thank God." Donovan rolled her eyes at Anderson who stooped to examine the area around the body. "Don't think I could handle the weather _and_ the Freak at the same time."

"Yeah, that's all nice and well, Donovan. If you will, try to keep the chit-chat to a minimum." Lestrade snapped back peevishly. "Anything to report, Anderson?" he asked the forensic officer authoritively, peering over the man's shoulder.

Donovan and Anderson exchanged significant glances and bit back chuckles. They knew Lestrade didn't mean any harm with his bad mood. He was cold, drenched, and probably missed out on breakfast too. They decided that they couldn't hold this one little incident against him.

"Single gunshot to the head, bang! The bullet was dug out of the opposite wall and is being taken down for ballistics analysis. No other signs of injury, or bloodstains. By the state of the blood splatter, the victim must've died sometime last night. The ME will have to take this poor bloke down to the morgue for further examination." Anderson told him, sitting back on his heels. "As for potential DNA evidence of our killer, I'll have to get back to you on that one. Our boys are brushing the place down and combing through the scene. Other than that, not much else could be done."

Lestrade nodded. "Okay, keep at it." he turned to his sergeant. "Donovan, I want you to track down every single person who might've been here yesterday and this morning. And also, we're already running facial scans on the victim so I need you to be ready to hunt down friends and family." Donovan nodded and jogged off to do as she was asked.

Lestrade stood back a little and watched his subordinates work. Cases involving Sherlock were exciting and all, but sometimes he really did appreciate 'normal' cases. At least Donovan and Anderson were efficient and professional when there was no outside party to be intimidated by. In fact, on normal cases, they were downright pleasant to work with.

He would never tell Sherlock this, but he quite liked it, this setup. The ME handled the body, blood splatter analysts handled the bloodstains, ballistics worked furiously to match bullets and guns, and CSI collected evidence and brushed the place down for fingerprints. Not just one person for everything. It was quiet, meditative - almost, and methodical. Lestrade liked methodical.

But still, he sighed as he stepped back out into the rain, his soaked suit sticking to his skin in a way that made it itch and prickle. It was supposed to be sunny today. He wrinkled his nose and grimaced. No time for moaning and groaning about the blasted weather.

Think better things, Lestrade thought as he moved toward his car. Like the very dry spare suit he made it a point to keep at his office for the frequent all-nighters and emergencies. A good, warm lunch to make up for his missed breakfast. A steamy cup of coffee from the canteen, though terrible, it was drinkable and contained caffeine.

Or... Lestrade's eyes were drawn to an inconspicuous black car on the other side of the street. ...Having your boyfriend stalk you at work.

Lestrade stood unsurely with one hand already clutching his car keys, wondering if he should go over and say hi. His phone vibrated in his suit pocket. _Are you planning to stay in the rain all day, Inspector? -MH_

"Sir!" Lestrade turned to see a younger constable jogging out of the crime scene after him. "Forensics found this just a few feet from the body." He handed him a plastic zip-lock with evidence contained, for examination. Usually, evidence such as this would be picked up delicately with a regular pair of tweezers, dropped into a zip-lock pouch and burrowed away in one of Sherlock's coat pockets until the next drugs bust.

Lestrade took one glance at it and handed it back with a smile. "Well, better log this in with all the other evidence, yeah? Have it sent back to the Yard, I'll take a closer look at it there." He squeezed the constable's damp shoulder and with a final smile, turned and jogged across the street.

The back passenger door swung open even before Lestrade finished crossing the road. "Good evening, Detective Inpsector Lestrade." Mycroft greeted from inside.

"Hey, Mycroft." Lestrade grinned, entering the car and closing the door behind him a moment before it surged off the curb.

"You're drenched." Mycroft stated bluntly, sniffing at the sorry state of the man beside him and trying very hard not to outright leer at the way his clothes hugged his frame.

"It was supposed to be sunny today." Lestrade grumbled.

"So you've been telling everybody who remarks on it." Mycroft shot back.

"Well, it's my only excuse." Lestrade retorted ruefully, squeezing out a particular chilly spot on his sleeve. He seemed a bit startled himself at how much water was wringed out. "God, look at me, I'm practically drowning!"

"Yes..." Mycroft looked him up and down. "I'm sure I've got a change of clothes in here somewhere."

Lestrade blinked at the stack of neatly folded clothes that suddenly materialized in his hands. "You just happen to have clothes my size lying about while you drive about on your government business?" he inquired skeptically.

"Well, let's just be thankful I do." Mycroft smiled back amicably.

Lestrade shook his head with an embarrassed smile. "Face it Mycroft, you just want to watch me strip." He glanced at the near nonexistant space separating them. "At a very close range, indeed." His eyebrows quirked in amusement.

Mycroft's eyes twinkled but his facial expression remained impassive and didn't show anything. "I'm just worried that you'll catch a cold, Detective Inspector. I'd never take advantage of this situation like that. I'm appalled you'd think so little of me." he said, mock-indignant.

"Let's see what you'll think about that in a few minutes." Lestrade challenged, shedding his suit jacket, revealing his button-up shirt underneath, sticking to his torso like a pale second skin. Mycroft flicked his tongue out, moistening his lips at the sight.

"You say that like you'd know the answer." Mycroft replied evenly.

"My mistake." Lestrade smirked. "Lets see what you'll _do_ about that in a few minutes."

Mycroft's eyes traveled up from Lestrade's chest to meet the man's gaze. They grinned at each other. "On second thought, you look like you're having a bit of trouble. If I may be so bold as to offer my assistance? Wet suits are ever so difficult to remove, arn't they?"

Lestrade opened his mouth to laugh but the noise was smothered as Mycroft swooped in to kiss him, angling the startled copper's face with a hand latched on the back of his neck. Lestrade quickly recovered from his shock and let out a rumbling chuckle against Mycroft's lips. "It was supposed to be sunny today." he mumbled. "I'm glad it wasn't."

The End


End file.
